route-ine

by Steven J. Serafiani

I don’t want to write tonight,
I just want sleep,
well cover myself in covers and stare at the ceiling for hours,
is this futile?
is everything we do?
my alarm goes off incessantly in the morning,
the sound is my comfort,
it tells me to keep sleeping kid,
forgo this day,
lull
lull
lull
lull
lull
lull

but no,
I trudge to the bathroom,
brush those teeth,
take that shower,
put on that costume,
and shove off to destinations known,